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Rose
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Rose

Poem By Bill Steward

The Rose was darker
Than the darkest nightmare
The light of the moon
Made the Rose look soft
Glowing,
Pure evil,
Controled corruption
Hoding
Every world
In its greedy hand
Falling apart
Torn at the seems
Pedals fall
The seeds left behind
To plant
And grow
In a world
Another Rose controls.

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